The Edge of Madnes and Beyond
by Karlo Marx
Summary: A human man finds compassion for a mutant, in a very twisted way.   A tribute to a cinematic masterpiece.


**Notes: This story takes place in the X-Men universe but is more inspired by the 1976 Scorsese film; Taxi Driver. The following is my tribute to it therefore I did not create much of the plot my self. It coincides a little with my other story, Nightmare but not so much that you will have to read it to understand this. Any way, I present **_**The Edge of Madness and Beyond.**_

**The Edge of Madness and Beyond**

Peter Lyndon found him self in the dark. The only light came from the sun, which was hidden away by the shades. He was alone; he was always alone. Maybe he was raised wrong or his brain was not wired right, but either way people never took to him and he never took to people. He could not sleep; he guarded an office building all night, but still could not sleep when he finally came home.

His mind returned back to a disturbing image he saw that night. Driving past a scummy part of town on the way home, Lyndon noticed something different about one of the hookers. She was one of them, a mutant obviously. He could tell from her purple and red scales and long spiny tail. When he saw her, he parked and stared until he started getting stares himselves. He spent the rest of the night with that monster on his mind, and he was still thinking about her.

_This isn't right or safe, _he thought sitting up in bed, _that thing could eat some one at any time if it wanted to. What kind of person would fuck a thing like that anyway?_ Lyndon still could not let it go. Since the Dorchester County High School mutant attack he had developed a near crippling phobia for mutants. He came to believe any one in a trench coat was going to maul him in the street. _I need to protect my self. This is no time for sleep._

Lyndon always kept guns. His father taught him when he was young that the second amendment was given to Americans by the good white Christian founding fathers to protect them from a corrupt government. Corrupt governments are hard to kill with bullets, so he had to settle for protection from mutants. So that day he visited the shooting range that he frequented, and brought his legally purchased firearms. He always bought them legally so that the flag burners would never be able to take them away.

The people he met there were the closest thing he had to his kind. White working class men, who wanted to protect their homes and neighborhoods from all of America's threats, gangs, drug addicts, mutants, terrorists, those kinds of people. Movies such as _Dawn of the Dead_, and _Red Dawn_ had a profound effect on many of them. The survivors with guns stashed away did not die as fast. Some had targets that were pictures of Osama bin Laden. They had to get rid of their Saddam Hussein ones after he was hanged. Peter Lyndon though, shot at an ambiguous target, for he had many enemies. That day the person shaped silhouette had scales and a tail.

Lyndon needed to tell some one what he saw that night, but he had to wait. There was a moment before work in which the other night guards would talk. That was Lyndon's only regular human contact. He waited until conversation died down and needed to be rekindled to insert his little anecdote, "I saw a mutant hooker last night."

"No way," a man said. Lyndon never learned his name. He was never good with names, or faces, or voices.

"How'd you know she was a mutant?" another asked.

"She had a fuckin' tail," Lyndon replied.

"What's worse than that is that she gets business," The first said.

"There are some real sickos out there ya know," came out a grimacing mouth.

Silence followed. It was broken by something Lyndon saw on Comedy Central that amused him, "I was so scared; I was sweatin' like a black guy trying to read." The laughter he received was the highlight of that period of his life.

He saw her handing out fliers on the street in front of the Caballero presidential campaign office. She was tall, blonde, and beautiful. Lyndon instantly turned the other direction and went home.

He wondered what he could do. Had he fallen instantly in love with this woman? The look of his apartment lowered his hopes. The love he had seen was all on television, and was had by people who had vibrant yet generic personalities. Lyndon was obviously not one of these people. He had no friends to converse with about relation ships. He seemed to have no personality traits of likes that he could have in common with a girl. According to the television he was not even a real person, because he had no one and nothing to identify with. His walls were a bare white. The habitat in which he dwelled had the simplest bare necessities of things; his only extravagancy was his old television set.

All hope seemed lost until Lyndon remembered that the standard that he was putting his life against was a lie used to suppress the minds of the individual; exactly what the Jews want for the rest of America. Angry that for one moment he believed the liberal media, he formulated a plan to get his love.

Lyndon looked upon the campaign office in which the blonde volunteered at, and took a deep breath for he was about to volunteer there, to do that he would have to talk to classy types. He straitened out his shirt and entered the air-conditioned building.

"Hi, I wanna volunteer here." Lyndon hoped he sounded all right.

The woman at the desk, who wore thick glasses and had poorly dyed red hair look up at him. "You want to volunteer here?"

"Yes." The woman's shock concerned him. Lyndon hoped that he looked like the normal supporters of Caballero. But he doubted it. The others looked more like polished upper middle class liberals.

"Alright just fill out this form." She said. Her voice had the tone of an "at your own risk" sign.

_What kind of name is Caballero anyway?_ He began to think while answering the questions on the sheet he was given. _I hope that's an Italian name. I don't wanna be spending my time trying to get a border jumper in the white house. _

He considered leaving rather than volunteering for what he was almost certain was a liberal, but he saw the blonde filing papers and his resolve was strengthened. He decided if this guy was bad enough he could always convert the woman of his dreams.

The next day Lyndon was able to start his work with the campaign office and meet the girl who had been haunting him. They had him painting signs; something that they were sure that even he could not fail doing. But he didn't mind. He never thought of him self as a desk type. Slowly, over the course of an hour or two his work shifted toward the desk the blonde sat at. She didn't quite notice him yet so Lyndon initiated the conversation.

"Hey"

She looked around for the voice, and found it beneath her on the floor, "Hey" There was a pause. "You're new here.

"Yeah" She was inspecting him to see what was so slightly different about him.

"Its good to see some support from the back bone of America."

"Thanks, I'm Peter." Lyndon decided not to go by his last name; it seemed so impersonal.

"Mary Sue" She reached out and they shook hands. At that point he knew she was perfect.

Mary Sue was a college student originally from the suburbs in Massachusetts. She decided that she wanted to save the world, so she volunteered to help with the Caballero presidential campaign.

To Peter, she talked about politics constantly. Her favorite topic was the handful of big greedy corporations that took everyone's money and spent it on yachts and submarines. Peter was willing to bend slightly to her views or incorporate them with his own. When she complained about the corporations she was not speaking out against America's free market, instead she knew about the rich Jew bankers and media giants who had infiltrated the government. But that day she was not talking about big business, instead Mary Sue was addressing the mutant problem.

"You see its not like there's a choice involved with being a mutant; its completely random. These people are just scared that their different and sometimes they lose control. You can't blame them for that."

Lyndon hated disagreeing with Mary Sue. She would always give him a look like he was some kind of primitive beast. So he avoided arguing with her out loud. Usually he tried to agree with her inside of his own head, and then nod at what ever she said. This time it was harder. _She's wrong she's wrong she has to be. But who says that they are dangerous. The liberal media does. No one would fear the mutants if the news didn't show them attacking and murdering every night. Most were born good white kids, and most still are. _

This was it. Peter had known Mary Sue for long enough. It was time to ask her out on a real date. His heart was pounding, but he was ready he was over due for some one to share the loneliness of his existence with.

"So, uh, Mary Sue," Peter Started.

"Uh-huh"

"Ya know, we have known each other for a while, and I really like you,"

"I, um like you too," Mary Sue forced out.

"So you wanna get some dinner or go to a movie some time, with me, if you like."

Mary made a noise like someone stepped on her toe. "I do like you, just not like that. We're too different, there's so any things we just don't agree on."

Lyndon was speechless. She didn't understand, but he could not just give up on his angel. So he had to make her understand. "You're wrong. I've changed. You've made me change. I don't hate now." He was struggling for words that could redeem him. "There are good spooks like Alan Keyes, and the mutants. I'll prove it." He suddenly remembered the purple-scaled prostitute he saw on the street so long ago. She was a in need. If he saved her Mary Sue would know that Peter was sincere. "I'll prove it to you." Lyndon was beginning to yell. "I'll show you that I care. Then you'll know."

Lyndon had camped out nearly all night on the same street he first saw what he mistaken for a monster. He finally saw her at around quarter to three in the morning. He was probably fired for completely skipping work. But this was more important. Making sure no one who looked like they would care was in sight he pounced out of his car and charged toward the mutant.

"What the fuck," said the reptile-like girl as a complete stranger almost collided with her.

"Shh. I'm here to help you." Lyndon whispered.

"I don't think I need your help crazy."

"What's your name?"

She paused for a second. "The Dragon," she stated as a miserable attempt at seduction.

"C'mon what's your real name" She gave no answer. "I found a safe place for people like you."

"Fuck off, I don't need a safe place."

"Yes you do. It's a school for mutants who need help. It's called Xavier's. I found it on the computer at the library" Lyndon pronounced Xavier, Zavier.

"Hey, there a problem?" A voice from behind them said. Lyndon turned around and saw exactly what he expected; a black guy in colorful suit.

"This crazy guy wants to rescue me." The Dragon yelled over.

"I think you better move along."

Red rage engulfed Lyndon, but he suppressed it. "I'll be back," Peter coolly said as he went home to saw the barrel off his shotgun.

The pimp was standing outside a building late at night when a pale hand grabbed his head and cold metal was driven into his mouth; a pistol silencer. "Where is she?" was whispered into his ear

"In dere," he mumbled past the barrel.

"Where?"

"Da buildin" Lyndon wanted to make sure he would not yell, that's why he had the silenced pistol. He had bigger louder guns for later. For now Lyndon had to make sure the pimp did not yell for help right away. He pushed the gun down on to his enemy's tongue and fired. The sound of escaping gas was heard, then gurgling and choking. Lyndon did not stay to see the fate of this man; he needed to rescue the poor persecuted mutant.

Lyndon entered the building that the dying pimp pointed to. There was a bouncer on the stair well. Without hesitation, Lyndon fired upon him. But he screamed as he fell to the floor. Lyndon's stealth was compromised. To silence the screaming man he placed a foot on him to steady the squirming body and shot him in the temple. A cone of gore jettisoned from the other temple and blood pooled around what was left of the bouncer's head.

He left his pistol on the floor and retrieved his sawed of shotgun from his pants. Somebody had probably called 911 so he had to make his business quick. He rushed down the hallway upstairs looking into the rooms trying to find bright purple, ignoring the other women in similar situations as the mutant. He found her; she was with a man with a suit. With a bang she was alone with Lyndon.

Pointing his weapon at her, Lyndon contemplated what he was doing. He was adhering to the Truman Doctrine, which stated that it was America's duty to protect foreign countries from being influenced against their wills. In other words, better dead than red. Lyndon was fulfilling his patriotic duty as an American. He saw something he did not like that had little connection to him, and he took action to stop it.

His train of thought was cut short as a long spinney purple tail tried to hit the gun out of his hand, but it went off followed by most of his right leg. Trying to survive the loss Lyndon had a heart attack and the horror of his existence ended.

"This shows exactly what has happening in America," the man on the television said, "we try to help those people and it blows up right in our faces. This man paid the ultimate sacrifice to try to liberate this mutant, and she was the one who killed him. She just wasn't willing to accept freedom. There is just no helping these stubborn people."

**Notes: This idea has been with me for a while. I wrote it to help my self further understand this great film, and to encourage others to view it as well. Don't forget to review, thanks.**


End file.
